


The Day Loki Stood Still

by Batwynn



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Time Travel, major death implied
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-02-21 23:49:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2486798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batwynn/pseuds/Batwynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki shows up at Tony's Malibu house a year before the events in NYC, beat up, exhausted, desperate. Tony isn't pleased that such a person has shown up in his home, but Loki claims to know him, or the future him.</p><p>Tony can't quite believe Loki's story, it sounds too crazy, too fantastical, and Loki tries and tries to warn him of what's coming. Only, he never quite gives all the details, and every time Tony asks, 'why tell me?' Loki's eyes glaze over and he refuses to say.</p><p>Five months before the attack, Loki's gone again, and Tony realizes there's a chunk of his life missing along with the god. He looks for him, he wonders where he came, and how he got there, but forgets Loki's warning.</p><p>Until it's too late.</p><p>Until he see's the god's face in the file handed to him by Coulson, eyes blue and dangerous. Now he knows it's true, and he's way to fucking late to do something about it.</p><p>How is he going to save the world from attack, and save Loki from himself?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [apocatits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/apocatits/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** Please do not share, repost, translate, or create printed copies of this fic without my express permission.

 

 

Time, for a moment, stands still. There's dust in the air, dust that Loki knows is not just from the rubble, but from mortals. He breathes in their deaths, and runs.

 

Across the street, jumping past one ruined life or another. They do not matter, their not his to save. They never were.

 

His breath runs ragged, a sheen of sweet forming unnaturally on his brow, and he's never felt this worn down before, never so tired that his bones ached with every breath. Something—everything hurt. Even his fingers, curling into that ruined band shirt that stretched across an unmoving chest, even they were bruised. His lips, split and bloody, creak as he whispers a name to himself over and over again. He babbles a plea to the figure below him, and it's the most honest he's been in days.

 

“Please... please, please, please... you can not... _please_...”

 

His eyes burn from the dust, it's only the _dust_ , as they take in every detail of the unmoving body tucked up against him legs, head lolling over his arm and he foolishly worries that the metal of his vambraces will hurt him. As if he could feel it digging into the flesh of his neck. As if he could _feel_.

 

His thin fingers rip away the fabric and go for the device implanted in the man's skin. He might be crying, he couldn't tell. Everything felt so distant now, like looking down the well and seeing your reflection stare back at you from the darkness below.

 

 _He looks so small_ , Loki thinks while he traces the cold, metal circlet under his hand.

 

"Hey!"

 

He smiles down at the graying face, a wide grin with far too many teeth to be _normal_. He needs to look the part— _pretend you're still the villain_ —they can never know.

 

“ _It's a secret. Not because i'm ashamed, i'm bigger than that, but because this is between you and me, not you and them_ ,” he was told once.

 

_You and me._

 

"Get away from him. Right now!"

 

"You are too late," he drawls so easily, not a quiver in his voice. He doesn't take his eyes off the man sprawled out across his lap, though, he can't do that just yet.

 

"Move away from him or I _will_ shoot," the voice warns, and Loki looks up at last.

 

His lips form the words, but he will not—cannot say them. The archer looks furious and the others behind him display an equal mix of grief and anger. 

 

_They already know, oh, they know._

 

He meets each of their eyes for just a moment before his voice finds him again and he finally manages an ounce of truth.

 

"He is—"

 

* * *

 

 

“I'm dying!”

“Stop being so dramatic, you don't have to be here for every little thing to go right. It's not like you would actually help them build the thing by standing around complaining about the colors.”

 

Any moment now and the tower would be complete. Well, not _completely_ complete, there was still the final stages of setting up the reactor, a few changes to the lower level floors, because yes, the colors _were_ wrong, and getting off the power grid. But most of the construction was done, the final pane of glass set, the last tile placed, his bar filled. This was all fine a good, if Tony was actually in New York to see it. 

 

"Pepper, why is this—"

 

"Tony, you need to stop calling me every hour just because you're bored."

 

"I'm not calling because I'm bored, maybe I'm calling because I missed your voice." He flicked his phone closed, sending the call through JARVIS so he could walk and talk. He wasn't bored, not really. He had a new suit to design, or three, hardly any time on his hands and all that. No, he had _not_ been playing with the office chair and a repulser for hours, not at all. Must be a different Tony you were thinking of.

 

"Uh huh," she replied, sounding utterly unconvinced. "That's why the first words out of your mouth were, 'did they remember the sake?'"

 

"You never did answer that, you know. It's kind of important for the opening ceremony and I _did_ ask you how you were doing, or, I meant to. How are you doing?"

 

There was a long sigh and a short silence before she answered that made Tony wince. He kept doing that, making her sound exasperated or full on irritated, which was no easy task considering how long they've known each other, and he knew that, which made it all the worse.

 

That was part of the reason he was in California and she was in NYC. 'A break,' she said,'might do us some good.' Only, he kept calling her to ask about the builders and the contracts and basically anything but the elephant in the room because he needed those excuses just to talk to her. Apparently that was not a very good plan, because all it got him were more sighs and silences. He was getting very good at getting worse.

 

"I'm _fine_ , Tony. I'm busy."

 

And there it was, the lie and the conversation stopper. Not that Tony was ready for her to pour her soul out to him or anything, but something a little more than 'fine' would put some of his paranoia at ease. Hell, even telling him what she had for breakfast would be more 'coupley', not that he would remember and he certainly couldn't guarantee he would be listening if she started talking about bagels, but it was the thought that counted, right? Then again, maybe he deserved to worry about this, since he was technically the cause of this 'break' as it were. No, not 'technically', he was literally the cause. Him and his suits and his 'hero-complex'.

 

Fine, so he could be 'fine' too, and stop pestering her, maybe. Until tomorrow... maybe.

 

"Good,” he said sharply, “Great, _fine._ I'll see you when I get there."

 

" _Goodnight_ Tony."

 

"Actually, it's only four here so—"

 

The call dropped, leaving him staring at a smiling picture of Pepper he snapped for his contacts almost a year ago. He hadn't updated it in a while, but then, when was the last time he saw her smile like that, anyway?

 

JARVIS chimed in now that the conversation was over, "Shall I complete the diagnostics, sir?"

 

Tony tapped his fingers along the desk and sent himself spinning away on his chair, head tipped back against the headrest to watch the ceiling whirl above him. "Fine, back to work. Let me know how when she's ready for a functions test, I want those lasers to last longer this time. Handy little buggars."

 

"I will alert you when it is complete." 

 

"Thank—" he spun again, "—you."

 

Eventually he had to stop spinning around before he puked and ended up sauntering back upstairs to indulge himself in a few drinks. He stumbled on the last step up, banged his shin on the table just around the corner, and limped off into the living room cursing in several languages. Tony was just about to throw out some really good ones in Japanese when he spotted a dark spot on the floor. Going very, very still, Tony glanced around the room quickly before his eyes rested on the spot again. 

 

_Could be oil. Maybe some grease from the garage. It doesn't have to be blood._

 

With one more look around the room, he limped closer and bent down to inspect the spot. There were several other smaller daubs next to it, beaded in such a way to imply direction, which meant splatter, which explained how much redder it looked up close.

 

_Not oil._

 

"My... apologies for that," a cracked voice called out from near by, sending Tony stumbling backwards almost into the hallway again.

 

There, kneeling partially behind Tony's couch, was a dark haired man clad in... well, blood mostly, bruises second, what looked like leather and gold third. He was beat to hell, split skin across his nose, grime layering his face so thickly Tony could see streaks from where it had washed away. Were those tear tracks? Jesus, what the hell was going on?

 

"Who are you and how the fuck did you get in my house?!" He paused, then directed the question to his AI, "JARVIS, how did he get in?"

 

"I only detected his presence at the same moment you did, sir," JARVIS replied apologetically. "Shall I alert the local police department or perhaps SHIELD?"

 

" _No_ ," both of them replied instantly, and Tony cocked an eyebrow at him. "So you know about SHIELD, huh? Or are you on the run from the police?"

 

The man pulled himself up to his full hight, which, damn that was impressive and completely unfair, and it made Tony's manliness feel all threatened. It did, however, also give him a better look at the stranger's clothing and physical condition. Analysis: odd, and heavily wounded around his hip and possibly stomach area. Conclusion: not going to last long if not brought to the hospital soon, possibly complete with police escort.

 

"I have come here to warn you of the dangers ahead," he said instead of answering, staring at Tony with an odd expression. "You must believe what I say, I cannot stress this enough."

 

Feeling brave, or stupid, Tony strode closer and stopped only a few feet away from the taller man, crossing his arms in the universal gesture of 'I might be listening but I'm not happy about it.'

 

"So you snuck into my house to bleed on my floor and tell me my fortune? How about you get out of here before I actually call someone to take you away."

 

"Don't," he was warned, the man's eyes narrowing under the heavy shadows that surrounded them. "You may send me to your SHIELD as soon as you have listened to everything I have to say."

 

So he _did_ know about SHIELD, that wasn't very encouraging. People who knew the name either worked there, or were supposed to be locked up in there. Since this guy really didn't fit the mold for a SHIELD agent, Tony was going to go with 'one of the bad guys'. Tony's arms tightened a little against his chest and suddenly, he felt very naked. Standing there in front of an obviously deranged, possibly very dangerous psychopath with nothing even remotely resembling an Iron Man suit, great.

 

  _Good thinking, Tony. If only you actually spent the time working on those nano chips instead of trying to patch up your relationship. No, wait, 'priorities,' Pepper said._

 

"Are you listening?" The man snapped. 

 

"I don't usually make it a habit of listening to crazy-looking homeless people covered in blood and bondage gear, but I'll humor you because you honestly scare me a little and I'm bored enough to be curious." 

 

That earned him a little smirk that changed the entire affect of the man before him. The tension slowly eased from his features, and something in his eyes shifted from defensive to almost hopeful. 

 

"You sound much more like yourself, now," the man said fondly. 

 

"You make it sound like we've talked before, which I'm pretty sure is inaccurate. I would remember you." He licked his lips and added quickly, "depending on my blood alcohol levels at the time." 

 

Tony almost winced when that hope flickered and died, the shutters coming down over the faint smile he had just earned. It left nothing readable, nothing kind, and the hair on Tony's arms stood up as a shiver passed through him. No way that was natural, no one's that good at hiding their emotions, not even Tony. He had to cover it up with a false emotion, smiles and laughter where a whole lot easier to fabricate than pure... nothing. At least he could hide his anger or the shake of his hands when he laughed and moved around a lot.

 

"We have spoken often... several times before— _after_ now," the man said carefully, "You do not recall this, not yet." 

 

"That was too deep and 'Where's Waldo' for me. Who are you, again?"

 

The man stretched out the last few inches until he was standing at what had to be at last 6'5, his presence dominating the room entirely. Tony had never been around anyone who could take control of the room quite as well as he could, and he must say, it was refreshingly terrifying.

 

There was a small moment where the man looked almost regretful to speak, before he announced, "I am Loki, of Asgard, and I am from the future.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

Apparently this Loki character didn't know Tony as well as he pretended he did, because the look of distaste that flashed across his face when Tony hooted with laughter proved that it was not the reaction he expected from him. He couldn't help it, though. Loki, the trickster from Norse mythology was in his living room, wearing the most ridiculous RPG Cosplay outfit and telling him he was from the future. Tony had half a mind to look for camera crew and maybe Pepper hiding around the corner, laughing at him. The only thing that stopped him was how miserable and hurt the guy was staring to look, and the small wheezes escaping him dampened Tony's mood pretty quickly. The guy must have really lost a lot of blood, even his impregnable mask was failing as his eyes started to get that glassy, about-to-faint look.

 

Tony moved closer, and the 'danger' switch turned off when his protective mode kicked in. Protective of his floors, mostly, but also his own personal comfort and safety. If someone were to find a dead cosplayer in his house, he would be in so much shit even SHIELD wouldn't be able to get him out. Still, as ragged as he looked, it was hard not to taunt the guy, he looked so damn _serious_ about this future thing _._

 

"You're not very convincing with the leathers and shit. Don't you know?" 

 

"Know what?" The man asked sharply.

 

"The future is all chrome, baby."

 

Loki's face pinched even more. "I told you not to call me—!" and he quickly snapped his mouth shut, his glare strengthening.

 

Tony waited, and waited, arched a brow, and waited some more. When nothing more came of it, he sighed and tried a different tract. "Look, tell me something only someone who knows me could know."

 

"Your nightmares consist of caves, putrid water, and sand," he answered quickly, not a twitch of movement as he spoke.

 

Tony did twitch, however, and opening gaped at him. "Wha—how did... no, there's _no_ way I told you that." 

 

"You father once left you at an 'Expo' and went all the way home before he realized you were gone." 

 

And that's when something small and fragile inside of him shriveled up with a pathetic squeak. He had never told  _anyone_  about that, not even Pepper. It was the first time he actually felt scared, that day at the Expo. The first time he ever truly doubted that Howard loved him. It was also an embarrassing story, if told all the way through, because he cried like he was five years younger and a whole lot weaker then he was supposed to be.

 

"What..." Tony began, his voice struggling through the tightness in his throat. "In what situation did I tell you about that?" 

 

"I cannot say."

 

"I never even told Pepper about most of that shit, especially not my dreams or about Howard. She doesn't know I still... I must have been dying or really fucking drunk when I told you—tell you—going to tell you."

 

Loki huffed with the same level of irritation from the 'baby' comment, and closed his eyes for a moment. The moment dragged on longer and longer until Tony was sure the guy had fallen asleep on his feet.

 

Not good, possible dead lunatic in the foreseeable future.

 

So, Tony reached out and offered a hand to the man. "Okay, so you know something about me that maybe, just maybe, I might have told you under duress or lots of drinking. Tell me more and maybe I'll let you stay the night on the couch or something. After we stop all that bleeding going on there." 

 

"There is no time for—"

 

"Is this terrible future going to happen anytime in the next hour?" 

 

"... no."

 

Tony gestured to the man's body as he walked backwards away from him. "Then strip off that 'Dragon Tamer' costume so we can take a look at the damage." 

 

"Anthony, leave it be. I will be fine." 

 

Tony froze mid-step, one, because  no one had called him 'Anthony' since he was as kid, and two, the 6 foot something man in leathers was pleading him with his eyes in a way that sort of made Tony want to rip his heart out of his chest and offer it up to the guy. It was a genuine struggle to keep the shock out of his expression, and damn-well impossible to speak right now.

 

 

_'Anthony'..._

 

_That's a good, solid punch to the gut._

 

"Uh... no," he managed, skipping right past that little traumatizing flash back. "You're not fine. You're bleeding on my floor and you look half dead. My house, my rules. Strip and I'll be right back." 

 

Loki narrowed his eyes at him and warned in an icy tone, "if you call someone, I will not be pleased." 

 

"No calls," he promised, putting his hands up in surrender. "I swear on my finely trimmed beard. Now get that leather off before it becomes one with your damn skin." 

 

By the time he made it down the hallway, through the bathroom cabinet—with some direction from JARVIS—and back to the living room, the panic attack had subsided to a dull rumble in the back of his mind and a flutter here or there from his heart. Meanwhile, the man had seen fit to remove his leathers. All of them, hear to toe, nothing in between. 

 

" _Whoa_ , jesus, okay..." He paused to take it all in with a trained eye for wounds, and maybe because what was standing before him was nothing less than godly. On full display, was a pale stick of a body, filthy, yes, and still standing awkwardly by the couch like he was afraid of the thing. No, not a 'stick', the word was probably 'lithe', actually, and Tony tried to remind himself that he was rather built himself, no need to get jealous. Much.

 

Under the grime and blood were definitely somemuscles, especially those ones stretching down his torso to his—oops, okay, that's enough eyeing the naked man, don't want to feel any smaller than you already do. Not that Loki seemed to mind his attention, if his little fucking smirk was anything to go by. Like he caught Tony doing something cute.

 

"Uh, so, you—that, fuck..." he mumbled, feeling the level of awkward rise as he got closer. "Yeah, first aid kit, here." 

 

Loki blinked at him a few times before taking the proffered box and looking it over. He frowned down at the thing as if the simple white metal and red cross horribly offended him before moving to sit his bloody ass down on Tony's couch. Which left Tony wincing as he imagined the grossness touching the white leather and nearly complained before he remembered that he was a billionaire, he could just _buy_ a new one. 

 

Instead, he moved closer and tried to gather more info, not ogling, no he wasn't. Time to get back to it, then. "So, the future, huh? Flying cars and crazy piercings everywhere?" 

 

Loki looked up and blinked at him again. "What? Flying—no, no. I doubt your mortal governments would ever allow such a thing." 

 

"Ahhh," Tony purrs, "that does mean it's possible, then." 

 

"Of course it is possible, you're _you_." 

 

"Are we both talking about the same thing? Because I don't do piercings." 

 

Loki stared at him with another odd expression before the saddest damn smile formed and he suddenly busied himself with the first aid kit. Well, he was pushing thing around a lot but he wasn't actually getting anything done. 

 

"Don't you know how to bandage yourself, Princess?" 

 

The man snarled wordlessly and one eye glared past the hair hanging over his face. Tony scowled right back and grabbed the first aid kit from him before it became an angry, half-naked staring contest. As he grabbed the box, their fingers brushed and god dammit, Loki was shaking, badly. Badly enough so that whatever he was holding on his other hand—burn cream—clattered back into the box when Tony got closer.

 

Was this really all from blood loss? He was pale, like a vampire drained him, but there wasn't a lot of blood by the couch. Unless he bled out more at the scene of... wherever he was before, in which case Tony had no proper timeline to follow and no idea just how long it had been since he started bleeding or how to handle it with a few Band Aids.

 

"How long since you got... stabbed?" He asked, quickly pulling out the larger of the sticky bandages and a handful of alcohol pads. 

 

"I know not." Tony froze and Loki amended quickly, "Ah, for me physically... I suppose almost an hour."

 

"So how long were you hiding in my living room, because there's only like three drops of blood on my floor, which, don't get me wrong, I'm thankful for, but it's kind of weird." He left the couch and knelt between the man's knees, oh-so-carefully avoiding touching or letting his eyes linger on anything lower than the largest cut. Which happened to run all the way down from his chest area to his stomach.

 

"Move your hands..." Tony ordered, and Loki frowned, shifting towards him instead. "No, would you—just... lean back, fucking hell, stop being a child and do what I say. My house, my rules."

 

When Loki finally leaned back, stretching his arms out over the top of the couch as if he were just lounging, Tony could see the full extent of the wound, and it wasn't pretty. There was a nasty tint to it, the kind wounds get when they fester for a while, and Tony knew a few little cleaning pads weren't going to cut it, this called for a heavy duty stuff and probably a fucking hospital. 

 

"Do not frown so," Loki commanded softly, "it will heal."

 

"Yeah, maybe if you go to a hospital like a _smart_ person would do,"Tony groused, hoisting himself off the floor by way of those lovely, long legs. "Stay still, I'm breaking out the big guns for this." 

 

Loki did not stay still, in fact he was up and off the couch, backing away from Tony with sharp eyes and a tense body. It was both thrilling and terrifying to see him crouch like an animal when he was butt-naked and still absolutely terrifying. Oh yes, this guy was _weird_. Original assessment, right on point. 

 

"So, I'm not even going to pretend to know what's going on, I'm going to go—"he took a step back, gesturing to the hallway, "—and get a cloth, maybe a bowl of water, and probably a bottle of Vodka. When I come back, I expect you to be sitting on the damn couch and not leaping around like a wild animal."

 

"No guns, Stark." 

 

"Switching to my last name, now?" 

 

The glare intensified. 

 

"No guns, Princess, it's just a saying."

 

There was a frown. "Idiom?"

 

"Yeah, one of those, are you gonna sit down or not?" 

 

Loki's frown curled into the nastiest sneer Tony had ever seen in his life, but thankfully the guy did sit back down and Tony hurried off before something else could happen. 

 

It wasn't exactly far away or anything, but he took his time getting a bowl of warm water, and possibly several swigs of the Vodka from his freezer before he started back.

 

What the fuck was he thinking letting this guy hang around? He had no idea who he was outside of 'Loki' and the man had obviously just been in some kind of fight not long ago and why did he know his name? Not 'Stark', everyone knew who Tony Stark was, but his _real_ name. No one called him that, he made sure of it. If this so-called Loki was actually from the future, which was fucking impossible but he was willing to suspend his disbelief depending on what information he was given, but _if_ he was from the future, why did he call him 'Anthony'? 

 

"JARVIS, did you check him out yet?"

 

"There are no public files on him, sir, but he is listed as brother to Thor in some of SHIELD's notes from an incident in New Mexico." 

 

"That's it? Just 'a brother', no other information?" He asked, tucking the bottle under his arm. "Wait, doesn't that make him some sort of space god or something?" 

 

"Agent Coulson debriefed several people after the town was ravaged. It appears Thor is, indeed, the god of thunder as well as an alien life form. It believe it is safe to say the man in your living room is one of the same, if he is, in fact, who he claims to be." 

 

Tony let out a sigh and paused by the doorway, not quite ready to face a _god_. "So not just a crazy cosplayer, then... Can't I have something normal happen in my life, just once?" 

 

"You would surely perish of boredom, sir."

 

"True," he agreed, "There are much better ways to die." 

 

Like aggravating the crazy, bleeding god on his couch. That sounded promising. 

 

"Princess!" He called out, striding into room cheerfully. He grinned at the startled expression his grand entrance earned him and knelt right back down before Loki had time to say anything. "Alright, lean back again, good boy." 

 

Loki did lean back, and smiling all the while, said, "Stark, if you persist in this line of pet names I shall cut your tongue from your mouth and wear it around my neck to remind you always that it is better to _hold your tongue._ " 

 

Tony scoffed and thoroughly soaked the rag before looking up at the man—wait,  _god_  with a smirk. "Did I offend your _godly_ sensibilities?" 

 

Loki stiffened, his lips tightening into a thin line as he stared down at Tony. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, showing the first signs of real concern since he arrived. "How did you... know? You are not supposed to know of me just yet." 

 

Tony didn't answer right away, better to keep his hand hidden for now, and did the first pass over with the damp cloth. Loki hissed once, but otherwise stayed silent and still. A god, right, probably was used to this level of pain, and then some. So, without much hesitation, Tony got to work, still being as gentle as he could to clean around the open wound first, even taking the time to wash away some of the dirt and god knows what else caked to his chest and arms. He _really_ got into it, running the cloth over every defined line of muscle, amused to find no hair on his body whatsoever. It wasn't until Loki's voice broke him out of his reverie that he realized he was giving the god a full on sponge-bath.

 

"Enjoying yourself?" He purred, green eyes narrowed at him even as a smile twitched across his lips. 

 

Tony dropped the cloth and tried to avoid the god's gaze. "Well, you do have a very well formed—you are—you... Fuck you, you're clean now, I can admire someone's body without it being... don't complain," he snapped, standing up in a rush and grabbing his handful of bandages. Loki's hand darted forward and wrapped around his wrist, pulling him back towards the god and nearly sending him keeling over. "What the fu—"

 

"Anthony, you are allowed to look and to _touch_." 

 

"No," Tony yanked his hand away and glared,"I'm _not_. As you probably know, since you're apparently from the future, I'm with Pepper." 

 

A shadow fell over Loki's face, and Tony shifted away a little as he was hissed at. "You _lie!_ " 

 

"Uh, no, i'm not lying. Aren't you from my so-called future? I thought we knew each other, you and I." 

 

"You _told_ me you and here were—!" He broke off and clenched his hands into fists, turning away to glare at nothing. "What month is this?" 

 

"That would be June." 

 

"June..." Loki repeated and unclenched a hand to run it through his messy hair. It fell back over his face, long, dark strands still sticky with blood and other gross stuff. Tony caught himself following the movement and sat back down on the couch, hoping the god wasn't about to smite him over some wandering eyes and, what, having a girlfriend?

 

"Actually late June," he amended, watching Loki's hunched figure carefully. "So, more like July." 

 

"Then she and you are still... ah... I came back too far. You will never listen to me." 

 

"I am listening to you, I—wait, 'still' what?! What exactly are you implying?" 

 

Ignoring the question, Loki hissed through his teeth and leaned back into the couch. The spark seemed to go out, leaving him defeated. He looked vulnerable now, naked and beat up on Tony's couch.

 

That, for some reason, really bothered Tony. The guy had been almost too comfortable around him, starting with using his full first name, and then the ease of touching him like they hadn't just met, which, if Tony believed his story, meant something was up. This was the guy holding all the cards right now, and Tony hadn't learned anything from him yet other than that this future he returned from seemed to still be a ways off, and someone clearly stabbed him. 

 

Tony leaned his elbows on his knees and turned his gaze away from the naked man. Not because he was uncomfortable seeing his body, but because it felt kind of weird to just be sitting here next to him without anything to go on and a sneaking suspicion that at some point in the future, he was going to be much more familiar with that body.

 

Tony mentally smacked himself, cleared his throat and asked, "Can you tell me about it? This future that you escaped from to warn me about." 

 

"Not all, but some small aspects of it."

 

"Such as?"

 

Loki glanced at him, his head lolling against the back of the couch. "There will be a battle, several battles actually, but there is one most memorable. I wish for you to avoid this one at all costs." 

 

"Ummm so, I assume this is between me and a bad guy? Big deal? People getting hurt?" 

 

"... Yes." 

 

"No."

 

"Pardon me?" Loki muttered, brows pinching together in confusion.

 

"My answer to your request that I avoid a fight and let people die, is 'no.'”

 

Anger flickered in Loki's eyes, and before he could say anything, Tony went on, "there's no argument that's going to change my mind about this. If I can fight, I'll fight."

 

Loki's smile was sharp and painful, and he answered in a small voice, "I know."

 

* * *

 

“–dead.”

 

Loki stumbled, catching himself on something soft that certainly was not the concrete rubble that had surrounded him only seconds before. He blinked, and then stared down at his empty arms, blood still staining the gold of his armor. His chest was still burning with the wound he sustained only an hour before, nothing about him had changed but... gone, he was _gone_. He cast a quick glance around the space he had been transported to, finding white leather and cherry wood furniture, a wall of windows looking out at the sea, and a distinct smell that almost calmed him.

 

There was the shuffle of feet, a slew of curses coming closer, and Loki ducked down behind the couch quickly, wincing as his wound tore open again. The swearing stopped, and Loki peered around the couch to see the figure stoop down to look at something on the floor. When the man glanced up to look around the room, eyes missing Loki completely, his heart nearly tore from his chest. Because they were those golden-brown eyes he had come to know so well, bright and calculating, and _alive_.

 

Oh, if only to reach out and touch him again, to breath in his scent.

 

But, no, this was clearly not the man he knew. Loki could see where the shadows hadn't grown over him, where the burdens of war had not yet worn him down. He was young, so young, and Loki knew this was why he was here. To preserve this man, to keep this man young and happy, and alive.

 

He was here to save Tony Stark.

 

  
  



	2. Day of Silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uuh, Unedited. Sorry!

 

 

Tony woke to the groaning weight of responsibility and regret that usually hit him after a night of drinking or three nights of non-stop work. The cherry on top of his possible hangover was the weight pressing against his chest in just the right angle to drive his arc reactor into his damn lungs. 

 

How many times has he told Pepper to stop flinging her arms across his chest like that? What part of arc reactor is  _embedded in chest_  didn't she get?

 

"Geroff," he grunted, shoving at the arm uselessly. His efforts were futile, and Pepper let out a deep, irritated grunt as she shifter closer, somehow managing to shove her hair into Tony's nose and single-handily run any chances of getting back to sleep. She wasn’t usually this clingy, at least, not these days. They hadn’t been snuggly for a while now, not since the “break”, which, incidentally, meant her sleeping in a guest room when she stayed overnight.

 

_Weird, when did she crawl in with me?_

 

Tony's eyes cracked open, a barrage of passive-agressiveness ready to spew forth and probably ruin both their days, when he realized the hair falling across his face was black, not the usual strawberry blond. Oh, and that arm, thicker and actually paler than Pepper’s. Not to mention, there was the certain lack of breast in the chest area that really drove the not-Pepper-point home.

 

"Ohshitno!" He squawked, jerking away from the  _obviously_  male body clinging to him and flailing around to untangle himself from imposing limbs.

 

This is a mistake, or a hallucination—a painful hallucination, complete with a head ache and breathing problems, but really, he wasn’t  _actually_  seething this. Because, he couldn't have cheated, no way, he never cheated. Flirted, sure. Some orgies, back when he was what he considered single, hell yeah. But he would not cheat on Pepper, break-time or not. 

 

And yet... there was a black-haired individual snuggled up against him and yep, that's a bare ass. A  _nice_  ass, actually. Really well rounded and—wait...

 

Tony glanced down.

 

_Both naked._

 

"Oh fuck fuck fuck fu—"

 

"Before you continue down this spiraling path of self hatred, guilt, and general annoying behavior," the nice-assed individual drawled, "you should know that nothing beyond a drunken snuggle happened between us."

 

"Snuggling," Tony repeated incredulously. Since when did he snuggle with one-night stands? Since when did he snuggle when drunk? Since when did he actually  _get_  this drunk, was actually a more pressing question. To say his tolerance was past the point of most Russian Mafia these days, would not be an exaggeration. 

 

The man tipped his head up and scowled from behind a mess of hair falling in front his face. It was a  _nice_  scowl, considering.

 

"You think much too loudly," he said, “And as easily as I could take you for my own, I rather think that would effect my future ‘chances’ with you just a tad negatively. So no, we did nothing but drink, snuggle, and sing some appalling song about milk-shakes that I still have no true understanding of."

 

Tony blinked at him some more, because that was all his processing power could handle right now and he was hungover, after all. 

 

“We didn’t fuck?”

 

“No, we did not. But thank you for reminding me of your appalling word choices.”

 

Tony leveled a glare at the man, a fuzzy memory finally breaking the surface of the migraine. Oh yeah, he knew this bastard. This was Future Man, Loki, god of Lies and time traveler extraordinaire. The man who appeared in his living room, bleeding on his floor, and proceed to tell him to stop fighting because fighting is bad, or some shit like that. It got pretty hazy after the whole body washing thing, which, according to Loki, somehow didn’t lead to any sexual activities. 

 

_Huh, maybe I have some self control after all. Suck on that, Pepper!_

 

Tony winced, remembering that this was not exactly something to brag about, and should Pepper ever find out he let the man stay the night in his bed—never mind actually indulge his wild fantasies—she would most likely walk out of his life right then in there. For good this time. 

 

“So… Loki,” he began slowly, trying to sound calm rather than cautious. “What exactly are your plans here? In the past, I mean. Going to sell trade secrets? Do you know what the iPhones of the future look like? because if you do, you’re obligated to share with me so I can one up them on every front.”

 

“Not that I need any help with that,” he added with a smirk, stretching his arms above him.

 

Loki sat up fully, giving Tony a nice view of his annoyingly-toned body and reminding him that he had touched all that skin there, maybe more than he should have. It also provided him with an alarming realization.

 

Loki had healed… over night. Not even 12 hours later, and the bastard no longer looked like he had been run over by a plow.

 

In fact, there was nothing but a faint pink scarring in place of every bloody wound Tony had washed out just last night. It was impossible, or possible if JARVIS was right and Loki was actually a Norse god, but that was a joke and gods weren’t real. Maybe he had a really good immune system. Or maybe Doctor Banner finally got that super serum working, finally. Or maybe he’s a mutant? The possibilities were limitless. Unless the limit was gods, because, impossibility. The end.

 

 Aliens, however, were another story. There were records of that shit now. Blurry pictures of Thor in some SHIELD files, hidden away and looking all too much like some old Loch Ness Monster photographs from the 1930’s. Alien’s pretending to be Norse gods?  _That_  Tony could handle.

 

“I am here for one, single reason,” Loki replied after pulling the sheet around him, no longer sharing his body with the world. He was hunched over now, knees drawn up against his chest, hair still hanging low over his face to hide whatever expression went along with that morose voice. To put it simply, the guy looked depressed. “I will complete my mission and see this through to the end. Or… not the end.”

 

“Your ‘mission’? You were—hypothetically—sent back here with a mission? I thought you said you were just here to warn me about some fight?”

 

“Ah, so you do listen.”

 

“I tune in when something piques my interest,” Tony shrugged, "now answer my questions.”

 

Loki tipped his face up just enough to level a weary sneer at him. “Ah, since you asked so nicely… I’m on a mission of my own, and if you had payed more attention, you would recall that it was more than one fight I warned you of.”

 

“right, several fights i’m supposed to just ignore.”

 

“Not ignore, but perhaps conduct your affairs from the sidelines, command, rather than lead on the front lines.”

 

Tony let out a derisive snort and hissed, “if you  _actually_  knew anything about me, oh Futurama, you would know why I don’t do that. Not anymore.”

 

And not missing a beat, Loki “Because of a cave,” and smirked at Tony’s unhappy grunt of irritation. 

 

“You could have found that out anywhere, there’s still articles about it, even now. JARVIS, tell me the most current article regarding my last vacation to a place with a desert.”

 

“2 hours and 33 minutes, sir,” the AI said. “If you are not accounting for the blogs.” 

 

“No bloggers, they don’t let anything die.”

 

“You’re assuming I know only stories from your past,” Loki interrupted smoothly, surprisingly not shocked by a disembodied voice talking to them. In fact, he hadn’t been all that impressed by it last night, either. Ar least then he could contribute it to Loki’s wound-addled mind, or something. This was a first, though, and a bit disappointing. He liked it when people jumped.

 

“Yeah, because anyone with half a brain can read that and draw the conclusion that I have nightmares about it. It’s not rocket science, it’s high school psychology 101, at best.”

 

Loki did something with his face behind that hair that might of been a pout, then asked, “And if I have more to offer?"

 

 

 "Alright, impress me Mystery Science Theater. Tell me something no one else knows, for real this time."

 

 

Loki gave him a look that screamed, ‘Challenge Accepted,’ and sat up straight, letting his knees fall to the bed and crossing in a single, graceful movement.

 

“Now, I know you well enough to know how easily you can and will deny anything you feel untrusting of, or unable to test with you own hands,” he mused, his mood improving in a disturbing way. Tony had a feeling he wasn’t going to like this. 

 

"Thus, I shan’t speak of things like your childhood, or your transformation from the ‘Merchant of Death’ to the Iron Man.” Tony grunted, Loki continued over it, “There is no point in speaking of our shared future, since that will take time, and that is not something we have an abundance of. So, I am forced to talk about Miss Potts, and how you and she will cease to speak within two weeks of this date.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“ _Excuse_  me?!” the man all but screeched, rising up to his knees and looking very ready to attack Loki where he sat. Loki, of course, was not intimidated or impressed, but perhaps a little concerned. 

 

He knew he had gone too far back to avoid the ‘Pepper Incident’, as Tony himself called it in the near future. At best, he could take comfort in the fact that things had already come to a breaking point before the incident, but for some reason, Loki was having trouble remembering why, suddenly. 

 

_What did Anthony tell me? The suits? Work… no, a man?_

 

Why was it so hard to recall something he knew by heart? He had told Loki the story the first day Tony Stark waltzed into the interrogation—no, torture room, sat down across the table from him, and shoved a greasy bag of burger into Loki's hands. 

 

No, when did  _that_  happen? It seemed wrong somehow. 

 

But that was one of the most important moments of his life, how could it be wrong?

 

“I said,  _excuse me_?” the man repeated with less heat, sitting back on his heels and staring at Loki with an odd tenseness around his eyes. No, not odd, unfamiliar. Loki didn’t know that look, not anymore. Not since that day and their talk.

 

“This is the month of June, yes?”

 

“Yeah…”

 

“Miss Potts is in New York City, am I correct?”

 

“Anyone could know that, it’s not—“

 

“You and she are under some sort of stress, I believe?”

 

Anthony stiffened, but didn’t bother to deny it. Instead, he nodded slowly, eyes fixated on Loki as if daring him to comment on his situation. Tempting as it was, if only to expel some of Loki’s increasing distaste for the woman, insulting the man and the woman he foolishly believed he loved would not gain him any trust. 

 

“By the first of July, something will have happened that will tear you apart for good,” Loki stated, holding up a hand to stop another sure-to-be explosion from the man seated across from him. “I do not mean you will driven too far away, there is some small spark of friendship amongst the kindling.” 

 

“Okaaay, and this ‘something' is what, exactly?” 

 

Loki could see his thoughts flash across his face, so painfully obvious. 

 

_He fears it is him, simply him who drives them apart._

 

“I cannot tell you—“

 

“Then what the fuck good are you!?” Stark snapped harshly. “Next you’re going to tell me some shit about butterfly wings and a tsunami. Do it and I’ll call SHIELD right here and now."

 

“Don’t you  _dare_  call me useless, I am the only one here to help you,” Loki snarled, fingers curling in the sheets around him. 

 

“Well Congrat-u-fucking-lations, I don’t  _need_  your help!”

 

“ _YES YOU DO_!” Loki screamed, all his fury and hurt breaking free from his carefully drawn barriers as he launched himself at the man he was so desperately trying to save. 

 

There was, of course, not a chance in the world that Anthony would go down without a fight, and even as Loki’s fingers closed around the man’s wrists, a knee drove up into his gut, forcing the breath right out of him. But Loki was not mortal, and had long since overcome such simple pains as that. It did not slow him down, and the look on Stark’s face when Loki pressed his thighs into the bed made a sliver of satisfaction slither its way into his chest like a splinter.

 

‘ _You look good like this, writhing under me like a cat in heat_ ,’ he had said once, half mocking, half truthful. 

 

The man had hissed that time, too. 

 

“Get off me.”

 

“Not until you listen to me, you ungrateful little sack of flesh.”

 

“Yeah,” Anthony sneered, “You’re totally here to  _help_  me, you fucking douchebag. You have two seconds to get off me before JARVIS reigns all hell on you.”

 

“JARVIS,” Loki purred, “Sing a Song of Six Pence.”

 

Anthony’s eyes went comically wide as the AI began to sing, ' _Sing a song of sixpence, A pocket full of rye_.'

 

“How do you  _know_  that?” he rasped, no longer wriggling around to get free. 

 

“Think a moment, and it will come to you…”

 

_Four and twenty blackbirds,_

_Baked in a pie._

_When the pie was opened,_

_The birds began to sing._

Anthony’s mouth opened and closed several time before he whispered,“You  _can’t_  know that,” and stared at Loki like he had never seen anything like him before. Which, coincidentally, was true at the moment. He was rather unique.

“But I do,” Loki insisted, voice softening as he slowly eased his weight off of Stark’s wrists. “You know there’s only one way I can know my way around JARVIS this well. Even Dr. Banner does not know this.”

 

_Wasn't that a dainty dish,_

_To set before the king?_

_The king was in his counting house,_

_Counting out his money._

“I don’t… did you just say Banner, as in  _missing scientist lost to bad day with radiation_  Banner?"

 

“Indeed. You and he will be working together in the future.”

 

“I don’t work on gama-radiation—how did you know that code again?”

 

 

_The queen was in the parlor,_

_Eating bread and honey._

_The maid was in the garden,_

_Hanging out the clothes._

Loki sighed, sitting up to free the man who was making no further moves to get away from him. Anthony seemed to be in some sort of shocked state, something Loki fully intended to utilize for his purpose. 

“You told me more than you can possibly comprehend, right now."

“How?” he whispered, "Who  _are_  you?"

 

_When down came a blackbird_

Loki smiled with a warmth he didn’t quite feel, and shook his head. How could he tell Anthony that he was his future  _and_  his undoing?

 

How could he tell him he was his murderer?

_And pecked off her nose._

The lights, the ever present sound of air running through the house, the locks, the coffee maker,  _everything_  shut down, leaving the two of them in a dead silence that neither were willing to break. 

 


	3. She's not Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revelations aren't always happy little light bulbs floating over your head. 
> 
> No, sometimes they're in the shape of a kiss that sends the future spiraling out of control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not edited, as usual.

It wasn’t dark, exactly, but there was something disturbing and dark-feeling about his house when everything was shut off. Tony had never realized just how loud his little world was until the refrigerator stopped humming, the air vents no longer sounded windy and refreshing, and JARVIS, his ever present companion was silent. It was creepy, and Tony didn’t like it.

 

“Either you’re a really, really impressive stalker/ hacker, or…” he choked, looking around the living room. They had moved out there after Loki’s attempts to draw him back into their conversation failed. The god—alien had actually picked him up, princess style, and carted him off into the living room where there was at least sun-light coming through the windows.

 

Right, because he’d left the windows in the bedroom tinted before JARVIS shut down. 

 

_I_ really _don’t like this._

 

“Or you told me,” Loki finished for him, tapping at his knee as he starred out the window. 

 

“When? _Why_?”

 

Loki turned to him, expression blank. “Let me set some rules for these conversations. One, I will never, ever tell you _exactly_ when something happens in the future. You should know why not, if you are the genius you claim to be.” Tony scoffed, but Loki kept going. “Two, I reserve the right to deny you an answer if I feel I must. Superfluous questions included.”

 

“So I take it the iPhone question is going unanswered?” Tony interrupted with a mock sigh. 

 

The corner of Loki’s lip twitched in an almost smile, and he ignored Tony’s question, as predicted. “Three, should any event come to pass that is… unsavory to you personally, I refuse to take any blame for not warning you. There are things, such as these battles you refuse to listen to me about, that I will speak of. But the next time you stub your toe, I shall not accept any blame.”

 

“You sound like the kind of guy who doesn’t accept the blame for shit he’s actually responsible for, never mind other people’s problems,” Tony commented with a shrug, enjoying Loki’s angry sneer. He hit the nail on the head with that one. 

 

“I take responsibility.”

 

“Says the God of Lies.”

 

Loki snapped, “I am taking responsibility right now!” making Tony raise a brow slowly. 

 

“Oh? So whatever this bad future thing is, it’s _your_ fault?”

 

The god managed—poorly—to cover up his surprise at that question, forcing his face to go into its neutral state. As far was facades go, blank was never a good choice. It always gave away that fact that somewhere under it, you were feeling something that was probably unpleasant. Something that wasn’t ‘acceptable’, like anger, or sadness. Now Tony, he got away with his own little facades almost every time. A fake smile was hardly ever noticed, and never questioned. No one looked past a smile, and if they did notice it was fake, no one wanted to know the reason why. For a God of Lies, he had some work to do if he wanted to best Tony at this game. 

 

“It is… possible that I may hold some blame for the way events unfolded,” he spoke slowly, eyes sliding away from Tony to once again focus on the ocean outside. “I was lax in my attentiveness, and let something slip from my grasp.”

 

It was the softness to his voice, the very obvious sadness to it that pushed all thoughts of smiles—fake or not—out of Tony’s mind. He just looked so… broken. Like the kind of capital ‘B’ Broken Tony felt when his one last almost-family member turned out to be a back stabbing, or, in this case, arc reactor removing bastard. It was Broken, now served with a side of Guilt and Self Hatred. It was the kind of thing you never came back from, even if you move on, even if you smile again. 

 

“Loki,” he said quietly, “What happened? Did you hurt me or something? Because honestly, I forgive and forget pretty easily, usually, if I like you enough, and I think you’re a half decent guy when you’re not showing off that you can turn off my AI with a code only I know.”

 

“Well, I did throw you out a window, once,” Loki commented dryly, turning a wicked little smirk his way. 

 

“Excuse me!? A _window_!?”

 

“A window, yes. I believe it was a very _high_ window, too.”

 

“Is this… so you came back in time to tell me not to fight and to apologize for tossing me out of a fucking window?”

 

“I never said I apologized.”

 

“Of course not,” Tony groused, leaning back into his couch with a glare. “Because that would be beneath you. Because throwing someone out a window is no biggy.”

 

Loki smiled brightly—and oh yeah, he could pull a fake one—and said cheerfully, “You understand me perfectly.”

 

“No, no I don’t. You make no sense at all, Loki.”

 

“Some things never change.”

 

“So we don’t ever actually get to know each other?” Tony asked, curious as to what he meant. He had made it sound like they were close in the future. Well, no, actually, they had to be close because Tony would never, ever tell anyone that code that he didn’t trust more than himself. Pepper didn’t know that code. Fury didn’t know that code, not that that was a surprise. Tony wouldn’t trust him to light a candle in a convent without burning the entire place down. 

 

Loki’s face had done something weird, a half amused, half pained expression that Tony kept finding on his face and not liking one bit. 

 

“We come to know one another _very_ well,” he replied at last. “We are closer than you could ever imagine.”

 

“But you throw me out a window.”

 

“That was before we came close.”

 

“Huh,” Tony grunted, “I guess I really do forgive and forget easily.”

 

 

Loki’s smile grew more painful. “Oh, you have _no_ idea.”

 

________________

 

 

Two days later, JARVIS was back online, Anthony was bouncing around the house like nothing had happened, and Loki was feeling trapped. 

 

 

It was pleasant, of course, to watch the man sway his hips, singing along with his music loudly, and not caring one bit that he was being watched. He had never cared about that, Loki remembered. But for all the familiarity of the situation, there were glaring differences that disturbed him. Like, for example, the fact that if Loki stood and joined him, wrapping his arms around the man’s waist and whispering into his ear, Stark would undoubtably explode in all sorts of nonsense about being ‘taken’ and ‘hands off’. All the more a reminder that this was not his Anthony, this was Pepper’s Anthony. Pepper’s _Tony_. 

 

He did not like this. 

 

 

“Stop moping and help me out if you’re that bored,” the man called out over his shoulder.

 

“I am not moping.”

 

“Sulking.”

 

“Stark, I am not—“

 

A pair of sunglasses were tossed his way, and Loki snatched them out of the air with ease. 

 

“Whatever you’re doing” Stark said, approaching with his own glasses on and offering a hand, “Stop, and come with me if you want to live.”

 

Loki tensed, fingers curling around the metal frames as he stared up at the inventor. But Stark simply stared back, hand drawing back with a shrug. 

 

He couldn’t have known, there was no way. No way Stark knew that he would say those words to him so many months in the future. That those words had saved Loki from himself, simply because for once, just once, Loki would let someone else take his burdens for a while. 

 

And he had gone with him, and he did live. 

 

The memory warped in his wind as he watched it, images shifting, words changing and becoming muffled until they were no more. Loki sat up sharply, panic bubbling up in his chest. 

 

“Oh no… Norns, _no_.”

 

“What? I just wanted to go for a drive with—“

 

Loki help up a hand, successfully silencing him. 

 

He focused on the memory as hard as he could, picking out all the small things that he could remember. Stark’s red shirt that day, wine-red, covered with a black vest Loki had grown to love on him. He had sunglasses on that day, too, but… no, no he didn’t. What had he said? What had he done? Loki remembered him reaching out, he knew Stark had said those words, yet his memory was slowly, but surely, fading. 

 

His breath hitched in his throat.

 

“I’m changing the _future_ ,” he rasped, clutching at his chest. 

 

“What?” Stark asked softly, and Loki looked up to find him stared straight at him at eye level. 

 

“Y-you said this to me… ‘Come with me if you want to live’ one day… one day when I truly, desperately needed it, and now it is gone.”

 

“You needed a movie quote?”

 

“I—yes… I needed that, Stark, and now it has changed. It’s _gone_ ,” Loki whined, curling his nails into his chest. He felt like wailing, like tearing the hair from his head and screaming until his throat bleed. 

 

Desperately, he reached for the memory again, and froze. 

 

It was back, those words, they were back! The red shirt, the black vest, sunglasses, red, of course they were red. And his words, they were the same. 

 

_‘Come with me if you want to live,’ he says, something sad flashing in his eyes in place of humor._

 

“It’s there again… changed, but still there,” Loki whispered, blinking at the man crouching in front of him. There was an unreadable expression on his face, a stubborn set to his jaw that Loki recognized from when Stark made a Decision.  

 

_Oh… he will remember this in that moment. He will remember and speak those words just for me._

 

_Because I need to hear them._

 

Loki’s heart beat painfully against his chest and without thinking, he reached out and cupped Stark’s face in his hands, and kissed him. 

 

 

It was no where near the kisses Loki had come to crave, but after the events that sent him back in time and the past few days of watching and never _having_ , it was like rain to a desert flower. Without his permission, a happy groan escaped his lips, the sound startling Stark enough to jar him from whatever stupor he had found himself in. A hand, surprisingly gentle, pushed him back into the couch as the warm body moved away. Loki automatically licked his lips, and glanced up to gauge Stark’s reaction. 

 

“I… uh…”

 

“I shan’t apologize.”

 

“No… no, you wouldn’t,” he muttered, eyes staring and unfocused. 

 

“Good, you have learned.”

 

“Yeah, I think I just learned a lot.”

 

Loki frowned a little, not liking his flat tone. “Oh?”

 

“Mmh… Pretty sure I know just _how_ close we get in this future of yours,” he said, shaking his head as if to dispel whatever images that conjured up. 

 

Loki’s frown deepened. They had grown very close, so it was not very understandable that the man would be so adverse to the idea. 

 

“A simple kiss means nothing, Stark,” he said easily, shrugging it off and carefully studying his nails after removing them from his chest. 

 

“A _simple_ kiss?” he laughed incredulously, “Loki, you just kissed me like you knew exactly how I liked it. You just gave me a complicated kiss. I’m not an idiot, I had a feeling with the way you kept using Pepper as some way to convince me that the future is so much better. Or how you keep telling me we’re going to fail, her and I, and then you do this.” He gestured between them. “We’re not just buddies in the future, are we?”

 

Loki swallowed a lump he hand’t noticed forming, and tried to fold in on himself. He wasn’t meant to give something so important away, much less kiss the man. He had promised himself he wouldn't’ give in, he would not touch him, he would not tell him how much he… 

 

And yet, from one kiss, Stark knew.

 

“No,” he agreed. “We are so much more.”

 

* * *

 

Tony let out a breath he was not aware he was holding.

 

Loki twitched violently, as if the air from his lungs had hurt him. 

 

“Okay… okay, so…”

 

_No, not okay, okay so._

 

What the _fuck_!?

 

Tony’s gaze slid away from Loki, unable to bring himself to face all _that_ just yet. He needed to start a list, a list of things that he needed to think about, categorize, and file in either, ‘deal with this now’, or ‘deal with this never’. 

 

One: He was just kissed by a man and it was surpassingly _nice_. It’s not like he hadn’t messed around before, back in high school and some random moments in college when things got weird and everyone was high on something. But it had been a long, long time since he’d kissed a guy, and it had come out of no where, swinging hard, left field, one of those analogies—shit, he was losing it. 

 

Two: It was Future Man who kissed him, so, that was weird, too. Future man who had his eyes on Tony since he arrived in his living room. The same guy Tony noticed watching his ass while he danced around the kitchen and hadn’t said a word and maybe, in fact, swung his hips a little more. Because he was a flirt, nothing more. No harm no fowl. He really needed to stop with he baseball, he didn’t even like baseball. He hasn’t watched a game of baseball since middle school. 

 

 

Three: Was there a three? Oh yeah, Pepper and future not-Pepper. Future with a guy not Pepper. Future with this guy sitting on my couch, and not Pepper. Bad thing coming up very soon with Pepper.

 

Tony filed that as deal with now, and the other two went not he back burner, for now. 

 

“So this… So I break up with Pepper? In a few weeks, you said.”

 

 

Loki twitched, jerked out of whatever train of thought he’d gone off on, and blinked at Tony. 

 

“Ah, yes… or rather, she calls things off between you,” Loki replied, a hint of that same smugness creeping back into his features. “You were quite bereaved.” He frowned suddenly and added, “No… no, not anymore.”

 

Tony narrowed his eyes at him. “What does _that_ mean?”

 

“It means this changed things, yet again.”

 

“Changed how? What did, that kiss?”

 

Loki’s eyes went distant as he focused inward, and Tony grunted in irritation. Were they really a thing later on in life? He should know Tony hated to be ignored. 

 

_Maybe that’s why we work in the future_ , he thought, growing more irritated at himself, now. 

 

“Yes and no…”

 

Tony blinked. “Huh?”

 

“The kiss, yes and no. Your… parting with Miss Potts has changed.”

 

“You’re saying we just changed the outcome of a future event completely by kissing.”

 

“Not the outcome, no,” Loki explained, “But the order of events… or rather, your reaction to them.”

 

Tony sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face, forgetting he had sunglasses on and knocking them off to the floor. 

 

“Is this one of those questions I don’t get an answer to?” He asked as be bent down to pick them up. 

 

Loki snorted, stood, and walked right up into his personal space. “I’m afraid it is, Anthony.”

 

_Back to Anthony again. That really explains things._

 

Tony scowled and slipped his glasses back on. 

 

“Okay, so i’ve put everything else in the ‘deal with it later’ folder. Let’s get out of here.”

 

“Where are we going?” the god asked, putting on Tony’s spare glasses and looking _good_. 

 

“I don’t know,” Tony said, shrugging on a coat and grabbing his keys. “An adventure.”

 

“Sounds delightful,” Loki replied with a honest smile. 

 

Tony flashed a real grin back, and lead him out of the house.

 

So maybe he liked this.

 

Just a _little_ bit. 


	4. Punk Drunk Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony brings Loki out on a not-a-date, picks up some science, and somehow they end up in an underground fighting ring and Tony sort of forgot that Loki was a god.

 

He was wildfire, he was all those dangerous boys your mother told you to stay away from because she knew better, she _knew_ those boys were trouble. 

 

Well, not that Tony’s mother was warning him about boys, per say, but that was the general concept and no one ever warned him about dangerous girls—which, really, they should have—so the analogy worked just fine. Because Loki was exactly all the things a mother wouldn’t want her daughter—er, son—getting involved with. 

 

Not that he was _involved_.

 

“Faster!”

 

Tony groaned and did as he was told, again. 

 

“Is this truly as fast as it can go? You suits are much more impressive when it comes to speed.”

 

“Okay, firstly, this is the fastest car i’m legally allowed to drive on public roads, secondly, my suits are impressive when it comes to _everything_ , and thirdly, how would you even know that?”

 

Loki just smirked and leaned back in his seat, looking slightly out of place with the return of his leather and tunic ensemble and Tony’s sunglasses. They suited him, but Loki didn’t really suit the Bugatti Veyron they were speeding down the highway in at a speed that would get them pulled over if anyone was paying attention. He wasn’t worried JARVIS would warn him if there were cops ahead. 

 

“So, I wanted to grab a few things I need—which probably won’t be very exciting for you, being all magic, apparently, but after that I guess we can get some food in us and maybe hit up the race?” Tony glanced at his unlikely companion. “What do Norse-alien-gods even like to do here on Earth?”

 

Loki drawled, “Pillage, plunder, slay millions.”

 

“Huh,” Tony grunted, and drove faster. 

 

* * *

 

 

Loki turned out to be oddly pleasant company for Tony’s mini-shopping spree in Sun Valley. It was worth the 30 minute drive (His car _was_ fast) because Apex was the only place in the world where he could get large enough parts to play with and have on hand without taking the time to build them himself. Of course, he wouldn’t use any of that shit for his actual tech, but preliminary tests tended to explode and exploding other people’s junk was just fine in his book. Plus, He liked Saul a lot. He had a tendency to save something weird and highly volatile for Tony’s bi-monthly visits. 

 

“Hey! Anyone alive in here?” Tony called out, leaning to peer down one of the long aisles. His shoulder brushed against a leaning stack of tubes and sent them tumbling to the floor. “Oh shi—“

 

“Careful,” came a voice in his ear, firm hands pulling him out of the way like it was something dangerous, not a bunch of rubber tubes. 

 

“Yeah, that was close, Didn’t want to get cut on that smooth, _flexible_ plastic.”

 

“I merely wished to save your pride from damage,” Loki sighed, letting him go just as Saul appeared from the next row over. 

 

“Tony, you breaking things again?”

 

“Just my wallet today. Did you find one?”

 

Saul nodded and gestured for them to follow him to the back door and out into the lot. Loki hummed and flipped his sunglasses down before a little smirk formed. Tony decided he would ignore the smug bastard, since clearly Future Man knew something he didn’t, or maybe something he did and didn’t want to think about.

 

_Focus, Tony_. 

 

“I found one out in Utah, believe it or not.”

 

“What is it?” Asked Loki, looking down his nose.

 

Saul squinted at him with a frown, trying to place Loki’s face with a name and, obviously, coming up blank. 

 

“Who’s this, then?”

 

“This is, uh, Loki.”

 

“Loki? Funny name.”

 

“Liar, this is California,” Tony joked. “You’ve heard worse.”

 

“Who’s he? You never come here with someone in tow, not even that pretty lady friend of yours who I saw in the news jus the other day.” Saul gave him a wink that made Tony regret bringing Loki with him. A little. 

 

“I am his companion,” Loki answered for him, looking bored, not annoyed. That was a plus, Tony supposed, because bored he could handle, jealous future… _something_ he could not. 

 

“You’re British?”

 

“No.”

 

Saul blinked at him, then at Tony, shrugged, and pulled off the tarp. Tony let out a breath that might of ended with a happy squeak and stepped forward to inspect it. 

 

“What a piece of junk,” he commented with a smile. 

 

“What’d you expect? I know you got your own fancy one at home. Don’t even know why you want this one here.”

 

Tony sighed and checked the lenses. They were dusty, but that was manageable. He was pretty much gutting the thing for parts, anyway. 

 

“I’ll take it.”

 

“You buying or renting?” Saul asked, pulling the tarp back up. 

 

“Buying. You wont want this back when i’m done with it.”

 

Nodding, Saul went off to get the paper work for delivery ready, leaving the two of them to explore. 

 

“What have you just purchased?” Loki asked a while later, holding a knife in hand. They had finally wandered inside after the god complained about the heat for ten minutes straight and refused to talk about anything else. 

 

“An Electron Microscope.”

 

“Ah…”

 

“You have no idea what it is, do you?” Tony teased, picking up one of the knives from the set and turning it over in his hand. 

 

“I do, but I have never seen one looking so poorly. Your’s was rather beautiful, if I recall.”

 

“I’ve shown you my Electron Microscope?”

 

“Oh,” Loki purred, spinning the blade between his fingers. “You have shown me _so_ much more than that.”

 

Tony glared at him and tossed the knife down, leaving Loki to his fancy-knife-spinning shit. The guy was being unfair. One second telling him that they’re going to be ‘close’ in the future, and oh yeah, him and Pepper were going to end sometime soon, for some fucking reason, and then the next he’s started flirting with him. Tony was fine with harmless flirtation, if it was harmless. But this was obviously not, painfully-obviously not. 

 

Tony paused behind a shelf of wire and glanced through the gap at Loki’s back. The god was twirling the knife much slower now, staring at nothing with a sad, thoughtful expression. The blade twisted and flashed and before Tony could blink, it was embedded in the wood of the shelling across from Loki. Tony flinched, glad at least that it was thrown in the other direction, but not pleased with the whole throwing thing in general. 

“Tony?” someone muttered, and he flinched again. God dammit. 

 

“Saul… you’re quiet for a—“

 

“You say fatass and i’m adding $200 to your bill for slander.”

 

Tony let out a bark of laughed and shook his head, giving Saul an innocent smile. 

 

“I wouldn’t dare. Anyway, without the $200, how much?”

 

“5k.”

 

“Please tell me that’s a joke,” Tony grumbled, glancing over his shoulder for Loki. The god was no where to be seen, and neither was the blade he’d thrown. 

 

“It’s a high-end piece of machinery, Tony.”

 

“It’s a junked high-end piece of machinery, Saul.” Tony turned back to him and added, “And it’s made in Japan. I’ve give you 2k.”

 

“Three.”

 

“2k and I’ll let you in on my little Air Force junk raid.”

 

Saul’s eyes brightened considerably as he scooted closer and whispered, “ what you getting into now?”

 

“Oh nothing Rhodey needs to know about.”

 

“Oh ho oh! You’re a heap of—“

 

“Are we leaving?” Loki’s sneer was heard all the way down the aisle, startling Tony out of his conspiring-mode. 

 

Tony stretched, accepted the order form, handed over the money, and led the god back out to his car with few words wasted. Once back on the road, he sent an exasperated glare at Loki and finally gave in.

 

“You stole the knife set, didn’t you?”

 

Tony saw Loki smirk out of the corner of his eye. “Oh, you noticed that, did you?” 

 

“Hard to miss. One second they're there, the next they're not.”

 

“Hmm…”

 

Deciding the god was being more difficult than it was worth, Tony left it alone. If Saul noticed—which he probably wouldn’t—he would just pay him when they delivered the scope to his house. 

 

Half way back to Malibu, Loki asked, “Where are we gallivanting off to next?” and Tony finally smiled again. 

 

“Oh, you know, off to pillage, plunder, and murder.”

 

* * *

 

 

Loki hardly knew what to expect, since they never did have times out like this in their future. Too much blood on his hands, too many ungrateful eyes upon them. They were not welcome in the world they had grown closer in, which saddened him much less than this world.At least there, they had each other, here, it was Stark, his life, his lover, and Loki was merely the strange guest. 

 

But when Anthony had grinned and promised violence, the last thing he expected was, well, the violent need to expel his stomach contents. 

 

“Stark… where in the Nine have you brought me?” he hissed in the mortal’s ear. 

 

He was answered with another grin and a wide sweep of hands to show off the grungy tavern he had dragged him into. It was hot, filthy, smelling of urine and other bodily fluids that, coupled with the smell of the alcohol, nearly sent Loki out again as soon as they crossed the threshold. No tavern on Asgard smelt this badly, not even the ones on the lower side of the city. 

 

“I was promised blood,” he grumbled, wrinkling his nose as they passed table after table of near-gone drunkards and their frightening female companions. There was an unnecessary amount of perfume on their bloated bodies that made Loki want to gag more than all the other scents put together. “I think I rather loath your existence right now.”

 

“You said you wanted some pillaging and plundering and—“

 

“I was being facetious.”

 

“When I promise something, I provide,” the man called over his shoulder, pushing past a curtain and heading down a set of rickety stairs. “You want blood? I’ll give you blood.”

 

At the bottom, the smell was much better. Loki perked up a bit, glad to be free of the drunkards, but confused as to the new barrage of noise coming from the next room. Curious, Loki followed Anthony through the doorway into another humid room, this time smelling of blood. 

 

“And here we go,” Stark chuckled, grabbing ahold of Loki’s wrist and pulling him past the cage in the center of the room. That was where most of the noise was coming from, or rather, from the group cluttered around the cage. Men and women were screaming, banging on the metal with their fists and bottles, and some had taken up tossing things over the top of the wires. Inside, two men were already awash with red and stumbling around the square like fools. Both were weaving out of the way of the other’s pathetic punches in such a way that Loki was sure one was about to fall on his own accord. 

 

Tearing his eyes away from them, Loki found Stark already pulling off his jacket and tucking his sunglasses into his pocket. 

“Surely you are not going in there?” he asked, reaching out to touch the mortal’s arm with a hesitant brush of his fingers. 

 

“Why not?” He questioned in response. “This is what you wanted, right?”

 

“How did you even find such a place?”

 

Stark shrugged and rubbed a hand over his chest in the same absentminded way Loki had come to recognize as his tell for telling secrets or something personal.

 

“I was kind of dying not that long ago, so I didn’t really give a shit about anything anymore.” He shrugged again, shaking off the memories that Loki’s Tony had long since hefted off of his shoulders. “I had a lot of pent of energy to let loose, a lot of anger, and this was the perfect place.”

 

“You came here when you were dying?”

 

Stark spared him a pained smile and picked up a roll of tape from the table he had deposited his coat on. 

 

“I wasn’t in that bad of shape when it started, really. So yeah, I came here, punched out a few guys, got punched, went home. No one knew who I was, no one cared. We came here to see some blood, and that’s all that mattered.”

 

Loki let out a sharp sigh and scanned the room again, noticing a booth in the corner for the first time. 

 

“Ah, the plundering, I see.”

 

Stark laughed and started to tape up his knuckles, not bothering to look up when he answered, “Yeah, there’s betting involved too. I never bet on myself, didn’t want to seem too easy.”

 

Loki stared at the woman behind the counter, more than half her body weight falling out of so-called clothing. He had seen elves clad in less, of course, and many of the Fire or Frost Giants ran free of any fabrics, but there was something positively appalling about the sight. Perhaps it was the ridiculous makeup coloring her face, or the rancid scent of rotten flowers every woman seemed to wear. It was strong enough so that he could smell it from across the room.“So what are we doing here _today_?”

 

“Fighting,” He responded. 

 

Loki arched a quizzical brow at him. “You expect to fight _me_?”

 

The mortal looked up, tearing the tape with his teeth and tossing it to Loki. 

 

“You don’t expect me to let you loose on those poor assholes, do you?”

 

“Yet you think you can hold your own against me?”

 

Rather than answer, Stark rolled shoulders and pulled an arm across his chest to stretch. He had a mysterious smile across his face that kindled that small flame of hope in Loki’s chest that had slowly been dwindling since his audacious moment of weakness. The kiss had been a grave mistake, he knew so even as he leant forward and captured those lips. But, it was that smile, the eagerness to show off for him, the comfortable silence, even, that made Loki think that perhaps this Anthony was not so different from the one he had come to know. 

 

“Well then,” he hummed thoughtfully, tossing the tape back on the table. “Let us see if you are as miserable a fighter as I remember.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

The cage was a mess of blood, sprayed across the chalk-dusted mat and congealing in pink clumps around the edges where the shuffling of feet had pushed it to the side. The noise level was overpowering with the crowd surrounding them, but Loki had already turned his focus inward. He had to be careful not to harm Stark or give away the fact that he was holding back. 

 

Loki remembered—not fondly—their first battle together, all metal and magic and hurtful words. He shook the memory from his head and focused on a later one, one where they sparred in the confines of Stark’s own practice rooms and there was laughter and playful teasing rather than sharp barbs. He had failed to realize just how incredibly different their strengths were and ended up throwing the man across the room with a blow that a mere child on Asgard could block. Stark had been unharmed, for the most part; claiming that his pride had taken the brunt of the attack. It was a good memory, another one Loki did not want to lose by his presence here. Or worse, be one of the few memories he will be left with if he didn’t save—

 

“Hey, pay attention.”

 

Loki shook off his doubts, all his worries, and focused on the man standing before him. Stark was here now, expression torn between concern and amusement as he took his place across the mat from Loki. 

 

“You ready?” 

 

“How are your odds?” Loki asked, changing his stance. Not for a strong defense, but rather to weaken his foot hold and keep his hits wide and shallow. He was not going to have a repeat of their first bout. 

 

_No, it will be their second bout, now._

 

“Higher than yours.”

 

“Enough talking, ladies!” A man yelled from the corner of the cage, slamming the door shut and locking it. “Give us a show!”

 

 

Loki narrowed his eyes, watched, and waited. Across from him, Stark slid on foot back, the other shifting inward as he preparedto move forward. There was a roar of sound around them, he knew, but in Loki’s ears, there was nothing but their breath. It was a tempo to dance to.

 

_One_

 

_Two_

 

_Three_

 

With a surprising burst of speed, Anthony darted forward, striking out towards Loki’s left ear with a cupped hand. It was a good move to disorient your opponent, especially one bigger than you, by boxing the ears. But Loki was not going to give in so easily, and simply stepped out of the way, catching the hand and quickly giving the knuckles a kiss before coming around Stark’s back and waiting once again. 

 

_One_

 

_Two_

 

_Three_

 

The mortal did not seem disheartened in the least, and one again formed a strong stance for and attack. Legs spread wide, one arm down to block the softer flesh from attack, the other up and ready to block or attack. Someone threw a bottle, Stark knocked it away with a growl, and Loki threw himself forward. 

 

With a startled, “Shit!”, Anthony stumbled backwards, already off balance from bottle. Loki struck with the side of his hand, driving it down sharply into the muscles of his left shoulder. Rather than striking the stiff muscle Loki expected, the man sagged under him with a pained grunt, scuttling backwards out of Loki’s reach and trying to putting his arms up again. His left hung weakly to his side, though, and even through Stark’s blank expression, Loki could see the pain in his eyes. Something was different about him, something was off and Loki had failed to see that. 

 

 

“Stark…” he murmured, forgetting the noise of the filth clattering around the cage. He wasn’t heard, and the man started another attack. He was faster now, expression of grim determination telling Loki that this was the final strike before they began the serious of blows that would end the bout. Coming in low, Stark’s fist aimed for Loki’s chin. Loki was ready, already moving to block the blow and exchange his own into the man’s right shoulder this time. Serious eyes. Something was off. The fist was slowly. Something was—

 

“Gotcha!” Stark snarled through a wolfish grin, ducked below Loki’s fist, and twisted around full-circle to kick him in directly the chest. 

 

_That little… no more holding back._

 

Loki rubbed at his chest, impressed with the power behind a one-legged kick from a _mortal_ , of all things. It was something new to him. Their previous attempts had been limited to more hand-to-hand combat, which might have been due to the fact that they were in a complicated stage of courting where unnecessary touching was prominent. Loki had foolishly forgotten, again, that this Anthony was not flirting with him. 

 

Once again, Stark was readying himself, but something in his gaze told Loki he was nervous now. Had he expected a much stronger impact? Was that his final blow? Why had he not continued his attack to finish the bout? 

 

_Not that he could_ , Loki thought nastily. 

 

 

_One._

 

Loki crouched. 

 

_Two._

 

Grinned.

 

_Three_

 

And attacked. 

 

* * *

 

 

“You _asshole_!”

 

“Oh? Did I hurt your pride?” Loki huffed, voice heavy with amusement. “I thought you knew better than to bet on yourself.”

 

Tony lifted his head from the steering wheel where his icepack lay and glared at the god. Or, he tried to. He only had one eye decent for glaring, the other swollen shut and bruised heavily from what he thought had been an elbow. It was hard to tell, there were flying limbs all over the place before he died a little and saw the light. 

 

“I didn’t bet, but I also didn’t expect someone who supposedly is my future someone to beat the shit out of me in a friendly fight,” he complained, putting his head back down on the ice pack with a groan.

 

“You started it.”

 

“What are you, twelve?”

 

“Actually, I am well over a thousand years old.”

 

He muttered, “I was being facetious,” and leaned back, bringing the cold with him. “I can’t drive until this stops throbbing.”

 

Loki made a strange grunting noise to his right and tipped Tony’s head towards him with a nudge from his hand. Tony scowled at him, knowing he didn’t make a pretty picture. His lip was split, of course, and whatever Loki had done to his eye area had the entire left side of his face burning and swollen. Both his shoulders were aching, the tension driving all the way up his neck to his temples and doubling the whole face-pain thing. Plus, the jerk had knocked him on his ass, probably shattering his tailbone forever and—fuck it, everything hurt. Loki sucked. Tony wanted to go home. 

 

No, he wanted to _be_ home.

 

“Admiring your handy work?” Tony sneered weakly, trying to cover up his wince by pulling out of Loki’s reach.

 

“A bit,” Loki admitted, flashing a shy smile before pulling his face closer again. “I will heal this, but not here.”

 

“Okay, that’s nice that you can heal other people and all that, but why the fuck not here? You do realize I could send us off into the ocean with my eye like this, don’t you?”

 

“I doubt that.”

 

Tony glowered and repeated, “ _Why_ not here, again?”

 

 

Loki turned away with one of those _looks_ and fell silent. In fact, he remained silent for the entire slow, weaving, nauseating trip back. He didn’t even move, he just stared out the window and sat there, impossibly still. It wasn’t until they were just pulling up in front of the house that he reached out and touched Tony’s arm gently. 

 

“I… did not intend to hurt you so badly,” he said awkwardly. 

 

“Uh-huuh… I think you did _intend_ to,” Tony replied, not convinced at all by his tone. 

 

“I truly did not. I will do as I promised and heal you once we are inside.”

 

Tony grumbled under his breath about unanswered questions and fucking ninjas as he let himself out of the car and waited for Loki to join him. The sharp air right off the ocean worked wonders on Tony’s mood, well, that and they were gone and apparently Tony was going to be healed and won’t _that_ be an adventure? And it hadn’t been that bad, really. So what if he got his ass handed to him by a bean-pole, at least now he knew alien-god was more than just a title. 

 

Tony even managed a lop-sided smile when Loki joined him, and offered a hand. Looking even more doubtful, Loki accepted it and allowed himself to be pulled along behind Tony.

 

“I forgive you, because it would have been boring if I won anyway, and now i’ve got a story to tell Saul—well, some of it, it needs a few embellishments. Can’t look too pathetic, plus, who doesn’t want more drama?” Tony asked, grinning at Loki as he pushed the door open. “But really, is this a god thing or are you some sort of Viking warrior thing? Or, uh, Viking god wa—“

 

“Tony?”

 

That wasn’t the voice that was supposed to reply. That was the voice at the end of the phone for the past month that was not supposed to be _here_. 

 

Tony turned, stumbling, and found himself face to face with his girlfriend. 

 

“Uh, Hi Pep.”

 

“Tony what did you do!?” She yelled, dragging a hand over her perfectly pulled back hair. Tony hated that style, it made her look so severe and Pepper was anything but severe. She was sweet, kind. 

 

“I leave for a few days and you—“

 

“Well, it was more like a month so—“

 

“—And you start acting like and _idiot_. Again, I might mention. And who is _this_?“

 

Sweet, _kind_ Pepper.

 

“I am Loki,” came the god’s terse reply that Pepper ignored for looking Tony over again. 

 

“Tony, why are you doing this? I thought you were over the whole self-destruction thing? You promised me you—“

 

“Well,” Tony talked over her, shrinking away unconsciously. “I don’t think one ever gets over self-destruction and—“

 

“I just don’t understand you anymore, Tony,” she continued on, no longer listening to a word he said. 

 

And on, and on, and on. 

 

The pain was back again, the throbbing in his head drowning out what he didn’t want to hear, anyway. And if it wasn’t for Loki’s firm hand against his back, he was sure he would be on the floor. 

 

 

“— _never_ ask how i’m doing anymore. You never did, actually, and considering how much—“

 

Tony leaned into the hand, watching Pepper’s mouth move and listening to the heartbeat in his ears. 

 

_One_

 

_Two_

 

_Three_

 

“—and I can’t _do_ it anymore, Tony… I just can’t. You’re too much…”

 

Someone really should have warned Pepper about him. Because, apparently, Tony was one those dangerous boys your mother told you to stay away from. Because he was—

 

“…trouble.”

 


End file.
